


The Bright Side Of Forever

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [73]
Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling), Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: (Kayfabe Compliant But Not At The Same Time), (author is still really bad at humor), (except not though), (oh god the crack), Attempt at Humor, Bad Puns, Canon-Typical Stupidity, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Crack, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Swearing, Wrestling Weirdness, animal cruelty, casual physical intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: El Generico and his Dearest Friend, Kevin Steen, come down to the ring on an average day and everything goes exactly as planned.(yeah, right.)





	The Bright Side Of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Fair warning here, this is like really, really kayfabe compliant, but not at all kayfabe compliant, if that makes any sense at all. Like, it all breaks down at the end. Generico breaks character like twice, Beef is never really that strict about his adherence to kayfabe anyway, Brian has uh, a wardrobe malfunction (in Sami's defense, he does try to find a kayfabe reason for it, but still) and Kevin is just tired of the damn bear puns.
> 
> Translations at the bottom as usual. Enjoy?

El Generico lets out a loud whoop, hopping up and down excitedly as he springs from behind the curtain, raising his arms and crowing in tune with the crowd, as they greet him enthusiastically. He sprints over to the rickety looking barriers separating him from his people, planting one foot on top of the steel guardrail and balancing precariously with the other foot perched on the floor. They reach for him, clasping him on the back and shoulders, one of them wrapping an arm around him for a quick flash of a phone.

He beams and calls out to them, full to bursting with affection and happiness, half a thought in his head to fling himself entirely over the barrier that keeps them apart, the desire to lose himself in their exuberant enthusiasm almost too much to bear. Before he can really get going with the thought, or start formulating a plan however, a hand clamps down over his shoulder, hauling him backwards. He goes easily enough, letting his foot fall off the guardrail and plop back to the floor, casting a sheepish look at his lovely friends and waving to them in apology.

“Sorry! Mi amigo me necesita! Te amo!”

“Shut the fuck up and get in the bastard ring, you obnoxious asshole. Jesus. This whole goddamn process is going to be painful enough, do you really have to make it even more of a bag of dicks than it needs to be?” Kevin deadpans in his usual manner, his voice rough and loud to Generico’s ears, even when he is speaking over the disappointed screech of the audience.

That may be just because El Generico would be able to hear Kevin Steen speaking form anywhere and everywhere, over any other sound and through any kind of space separating them.

Not that any space is separating them at the moment.

Kevin doesn’t let go of his shoulder, and Generico does not pull away, letting himself to tugged rather gently along as Kevin approaches the ring. Kevin has that look on his face, the one that screams that he would rather be literally anywhere but here. El Generico does not really understand such a sentiment, especially not here, when the crowd is so happy, and with Kevin by his side. Clearly disagreeing, Kevin stops at the apron and shoves Generico down, grabbing him bodily, and tossing him up under the bottom rope.

Kevin presumably gets in the ring after him, or at least Generico hopes so. He feels the unbalanced, slightly ratty ring dip slightly (which is a problem within itself, but they’ve dealt with worse) and feels that ever familiar and comforting body heat slide into the ring next to him, and he relaxes a bit. Still, it is hard to appreciate Kevin being next to him, or their upcoming bout, as Generico fights with his splendidly glittery cape. The shiny fabric had become terribly tangled, getting wrapped around him when Kevin shoved him across the apron. The fabric is choking him, the strings a knotted mess and the shimmery cloth slipping through his fingers as he attempts to untangle himself, or at least pull the obscuring mess over his head so that he can see.

He lays there, fighting with his cape as the body next to him shifts. He feels the heat leave his side, and vibrations trailing away from him as Kevin’s voice rumbles over the roar of the crowd.

“Come on then, if you think your balls are big enough! These sloppy degenerates didn’t pay three dollars and fifty cents- or whatever pittance that Quakenbush is charging for these shitshows- to see us diddle ourselves in separate corners of the ring,” Kevin pauses, and Generico takes a minute out of his struggle to roll his eyes at his friend's dramatics. “Well, they might have. That seems like the kind of thing these losers would be really into, actually. Either way, that is not what I came here for, so stop pussy-footing around and come take you ass beating.”

Really, El Generico hates to rain on his parade. He really, really does. Kevin is clearly on a roll, and Generico knows that Kevin hates being interrupted. Still…

“Por favor, mi amigo…”

There is another audible pause, then some giggling from the opposite side of the ring, Beef’s hoarse laughter muffled and accompanied by a harsh growling sound that makes Generico slightly nervous. Still, Generico can’t focus on that when he can practically physically _feel_ the sour glare being directed at him from his tag team partner. He sinks down in shame, wilting under the glare as just the tips of the fingers of one hand hold the strings of his own cape at bay, his own digits the only thing keeping him from being choked to death by his ring attire.

Maybe Kevin was right, about the whole Superhero Thing being a bad idea.

It is such a **beautiful** cape, though. Kevin had even looked at Generico with that rare, **_wondrous_ ** look on his face, if only for a brief moment. Of course immediately afterward, once Kevin had realized what he was doing, he had started throwing insults around at anyone and everyone, but that was par for the course with them.

Could nothing ever be simple?

“You are such a fucking dumbass.”

Generico flinches as he is jerked upright, the force of the movement almost giving him whiplash. He whines, steadying himself by grasping onto thick biceps, choking as Kevin rips at the cape tangled around his shoulders. Kevin makes an exasperated noise, snapping his fingers in the fabric as he twists it around, all he really manages to accomplish is getting Generico more stuck than he was to begin with.

Which is a bit redundant, given that this whole thing is Kevin’s fault to begin with. He was the one who threw El Generico in the ring so haphazardly.

Or would it be Generico’s fault, for wearing the cape in the first place, when it was Kevin who told him that all the sparkly cape would do was backfire horribly?

El Generico attempts to back out of that thought, mentally searching for ways to lay the blame at Kevin’s feet and shooting his partner a glare that Kevin can’t actually see on account of the cape still wrapped around Generico’s upper body.

“Lo siento, mi amigo…”

“You are not sorry, shut up. You did this on goddamn purpose, don’t lie to me. Why are you always such an inconvenience? This cape sucks, you look like such a dweebus.” Kevin’s tone is harsh and angry, even as he slows his movements, halting his frantic tearing at the fabric. Instead he pulls Generico close, tugging the bottom of the cape around so that Generico can see somewhat.

“Es un buen cabo…” Generico says petulantly, shaking his head as his face emerges into the air, dramatically gasping for breath as he does so. Kevin growls something under his breath, the two of them locking eyes as Generico acclimates himself with the world outside the confines of his ring attire.

El Generico beams, despite his resentment of his partner. There is not enough resentment in Generico’s entire body to make him unhappy to see Kevin though, so he smiles brightly at his beloved friend, when he can finally see him again. Kevin does not smile back of course, not that Generico expected him to. Kevin just levels Generico with a hard stare, all dark eyes and humorless irritation, before turning his eyes back to the fabric tangled around El Generico's torso.

Feeling genuinely bad to have dragged their upcoming bout to a standstill like this, Generico reaches up, trying to help Kevin untangle the mess. Kevin slaps his hands away though, looking up briefly to give Generico another unamused look before going back to carefully picking at the knotted cloth.

“It is not a nice anything. It’s shit, and next time your gonna listen to me, when I tell you how fucking stupid you are being, if we are tagging together. If you were by yourself, I wouldn’t give a shit, but-”

“Times up, bitch!”

Generico snaps his head up, a surprised look overcoming his face as he sees Beef and Brian doing some odd sort of dance together, before turning toward Kevin and Generico’s side of the ring with a triumphant roar. Generico squeaks, feeling their feet sending earthquake like tremors across the mat, Brian’s snarling almost drowning out the crowds screech of satisfaction as something interesting finally happens.

In a blind panic, Generico rips himself away from Kevin, shoving the other wrestler. Kevin hisses as he goes tumbling out of the ring, cursing El Generico’s existence as he trips through the ropes and spills to the outside.

“For fucks’ sake, really? Last time I try to help you untangle a mess you made, you ungrateful little shit! See how you fare by yourself then, with that flea beaten mongrel-!” there is a pause in the abuse as Kevin coughs, presumably having sucked up too much of the sawdust all over the floor, and Generico takes the opportunity to try and beg off, his plea at least causing Beef and Brian to slow their advance, the two of them looking at each other as if silently debating whether to beat Generico up or hop out of the ring and chase the mouthy one down.

“...and Brian, of course!” Kevin chokes, finishing his joke at last and making El Generico roll his eyes.

“No es útil! Kevin~!”

El Generico does not get a chance to finish his plea to his teammate, as Beef and Brian seem to come to a conclusion about what their course of action should be. Beef leaps forward, Generico attempting to dance out of the way, but getting a facefull of fuzz as he smacks right into Brian, who pulls his mouth back and growls menacingly at Generic. Generico shrinks back on instinct, his fear of teddy bears and his affection for wildlife causing him to hesitate at the exact wrong moment.

Beef pounces, grasping ahold of the tangled mess of cape and knotting the fabric around the ropes. Generico lets out a shriek, tugging at the makeshift handcuffs tying him to the ring ropes, whining when he gets clocked by Beef.

“Alrighty then, come on Brian. Little ‘Rico will be just fine here for a while, so let’s go teach that obnoxious buffoon a thing or two about the food chain, eh?”

“No!” Generic groans, holding his head and reaching out for the pair of them as they begin to slide away. “No… Kevin!”

Generico flinches when he gets snapped at, one paw swiping at him as the other presses firmly against the bear’s own back. Generico knows he will feel bad later, but desperate times and all that. He lashes out with both feet, kicking Brian square in the back, the creature stumbling in response and letting out a yell as he falls forward.

“Hey! Fuck you, the zippers already-!”

Beef whips around, bolting over to Brian, ripping his own shirt off and falling over Brian, trying to cover up the bears injured back. Generico tries not to feel too bad, as he rips at the cape and the ropes. He had assumed that Brian had a bad back from the way he was holding himself. It seems that he was right on the money. Too bad the poor beast has to suffer for it, but Generico will not disappoint Kevin.

“You asshole, get off me! Do you have any idea how goddamn balls-sweatingly hot this piece of crap is-”

“Sami! That is animal cruelty!” Beef shouts, holding down the struggling Brian, pressing his shirt to Brian’s back as the crowd calls for chairs.

Which…

Ug.

“It is _not_ animal cruelty, he is a wrestler!” He shouts back, over the now deafening roar of the crowd.

At least the crowd is having a good time.

Beef seems to notice, and he stops fighting with Brian for a moment to grin wryly at the crowd. “You want chairs and be-”

“No!” Kevin snarls in disgust, clocking Beef with a chair viciously, before stomping over to Generico.

El Generico breathes a sigh of relief, greeting his dearest friend with an affectionate headbutt, pressing their foreheads together tenderly and taking the pair of scissors he is handed. Kevin returns the gesture for an achingly brief moment, before shoving Generico away and pointing at the heap of bodies that is Beef and Brian with the steel chair in his hands, leveling their slumped forms with a seething glare.

“No more fucking bears puns!”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Mi amigo me necesita!~ My friend needs me!
> 
> Te amo!~ I love you!
> 
> Por favor, mi amigo~ Please, my friend
> 
> Lo siento~ Sorry
> 
> Es un buen cabo~ It is a nice cape.
> 
> No es útil~ Not helpful.
> 
> Man, this must be hella boring to anyone not into this whole Chikara angle. I'm pretty sure me and Mithen are the only ones stoked about this tournament. Don't worry too much though, this will all be over after the next installment. I just need to get the last match Team IWS had out of my system, and then we can move on. It won't take too long either, they lost in their third(?) match, to Team Superfriends I believe (which is not Trent and Chuck cosplaying Transformers, surprisingly) so if this whole arc is getting on your tits, you don't have that long of a wait for something new.


End file.
